Out of every thing
That we would choose
To change about ourselves
Where are the keepsakes?
What would we never trade?

What are we secure about
If not our home lives
Or who we are?

In what corner
Do our securities suffocate in
So wasted,
Dormant,
Intoxicated by all of the negativity
We poison ourselves with?

Why do we envision better tomorrows
Just to forget
The promises we had made yesterday?

Since when did we begin
To betray our own hearts
With whispers;
With words?

Why do we not focus
On the love that still exists?
Why are we letting that go?

We expect the worst from people,
Ourselves.
Is that what we’ve come to?

Where has our faith gone?